


golden slumbers

by fleaa, nokniklaus



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Confused Simon Snow, Kinda, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oblivious Simon Snow, Pining, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Niall, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch is a Mess, baz is hopelessly in love with him as usual, baz is not interested, dev and niall are good friends, gareth flirts with baz, penny is cool, penny is queer, simon is having a gay crisis, simon is jealous, so many gays, the mage has fucked simon up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-26 23:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30113607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleaa/pseuds/fleaa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nokniklaus/pseuds/nokniklaus
Summary: it's eighth year at watford and simon and baz are living together in the tower as always. something is wrong with simon, but he can't seem to figure out what. in the meantime, baz is tormented by his own feelings. as usual.— simon's queer realization, baz just trying to survive his last year with his worst enemy (who's also the love of his life.) —chapters posted every other day for now.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	1. chapter 1

BAZ 

“Pitch! Am I seeing things?!” The voice pierced my ear, loud and echoey in the dining hall, making me grimace. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and had a pounding headache. It was morning—definitely not the time for such a clamorous sound. I almost wondered if it might be Snow; I certainly wouldn’t put such an explosion past the overly-energetic blonde. But no, this voice was more tinny, high pitched and far too excited about seeing me to belong to Snow. I scowled, flashing a glance towards the general direction of the call—uninterested, particularly after the prior sleepless night. But again, the exclamation repeated itself, the voice drawing nearer.  
  
“Baz! We all thought you weren’t coming back! What happened?!” I sighed in exasperation as I recognized the voice; Gareth and his magickal belt buckle. I had always found Gareth to be rather annoying, certainly not someone I wanted to associate with. I attempted to ignore him, until the boy was mere inches away from my face; he was practically yelling about something I didn’t give two shits about. Plastering on a fake smile, I greeted Gareth politely—how Pitches should. I was raised right, after all. I glanced over at Snow, who seemed to be glaring at Gareth for whatever reason. Or perhaps that was just his resting facial position. Snow had spent so much time glaring at people that it would be no surprise if his face began to take on a permanent grimace. I dragged my eyes back over to Gareth, pretending to pay attention. “Where have you been?! Coach and the team have really missed you; we haven’t won a game in ages!”  
  
I sneered; “Of course you haven’t—the team is shit without me.” My smile twitched, annoyance flashing across my face for a brief second. “Not like that’s a surprise. Well, Gareth, really a pleasure to see you again.” Turning my back, I faced away from him again. Yet, to my dismay, I felt the bench beside me bow under the pressure of a new guest. I’d been praying that Gareth wouldn’t take the empty seat at our table.  
  
“Golly, Pitch, where the hell have you been? You’ve gotta tell me all about it!”  
  
“Away.” I sat unmoving, refusing to meet Gareth’s eyes.  
  
“Wow! Sounds fun!” I wasn’t sure whether Gareth’s response was a signal of unintelligence or disinterest from the boy’s side. I had never paid much thought to this teammate. However, having seen him interact with his friends; acting like a giddy puppy, it was likely unintelligence. I shuddered at the thought of being seen with this moron. I didn’t respond, hoping it would drive away the other boy, to no avail. Gareth continued to chatter on, I offered up a shallow “Yeah” or a nod every time the idiot paused. It was almost Snow-like, his thickness; although Snow was somewhat more endearing and tolerable.  
  
“Well Gareth, I’ve got to get to class,” I said, frowning as I stood up from the table.  
  
“Alright, Baz! See ya around!” Gareth squeezed my arm, and before I could jerk away, slapped a hand onto my back; the result was something in between a chest bump and a hug, made further difficult by my squirming away. My eyes widened and I backed up, turning toward the exit quickly. Feebly, I waved my hand in the air, a half-assed attempt at bidding Gareth farewell.  
  
  
That had possibly been one of the most annoying conversations I’d ever partaken in— I knew to avoid Gareth at all costs after that disaster. What a way to start a morning. It didn’t bode well for the rest of my day. My first class was with Snow, who had seen Gareth harassing me while he was throwing away his napkins, probably after devouring his scones.  
  
Snow proceeded to stare at me the entire class. He wasn’t paying any attention to the lesson, so it was no wonder his magic was fuming and smoking; eventually it got so bad that Ms. Possibelf had to send him out of class to calm down. Typical Snow—his magick was as unstable as his psyche seemed to appear. I stared after him as he left.  
  
I've never understood Snow’s relationship to magick. Frustrated, it seemed to brim over at random moments—he has little to no control over it. Sort of like Snow himself; short tempered and uncontrollable. That thought brought me a feeling of smug satisfaction as I flicked my wand, casting a perfect nothing to see here on my eraser. I caught Snow’s gaze just as the spell completed, furthering my sense of achievement as I smirked. This seemed to send Snow deeper into a fit, the boy glaring and growling under his breath as he stomped out of the classroom once again when Ms. Possibelf sighed and pointed to the door.  
  
_That’s right, Snow._ I stuck my chin out and winked at the professor; who promptly ignored me. _I’m a better mage than you, and there’s nothing you can do about it._ Sure, I had missed much of the first term of school. But I was already miles ahead of everyone else in the class. I could probably miss a whole year and come out unscathed. I zoned out for the rest of the period, the sound of Snow’s pacing in the hallway drawing my attention away from the already dreadfully dull lesson. I didn’t need to pay attention anyways; I already knew everything. My father had forced me to spend entire summers studying. Once the bell rang and class was dismissed, I stopped back at my room to drop off my books. Snow was there, it was his free period. He glared at me bitterly before clenching his teeth and spitting out, “What did Gareth want?”  
  
“That’s none of your business,” I sneered at the blonde boy before turning around and slamming the door shut. I heard Snow shout “HEY!” after me, cut off by the closing door. The rest of my classes were mind-numbingly boring, and I zoned out the entire time day-dreaming about blue eyes and a constellation of moles.  
  
My biggest secret, that nobody—not even Dev or Niall—knew about.  
  
I was in love with the chosen one.  
  
I knew there was no possible way that Simon would love me back—he was straight, Crowley—but I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling almost since I first met him. Denial, acceptance, anger, denial—and the cycle began again. I had tried every last possible thing to do away with my feelings for Simon. The summer of fifth year was a difficult time for me; I had tried to no avail to wank my feelings away. Nothing seemed to work.  
  
I had liked ‘stupid’ people before—my primary school crush on the green eyed class clown, my short lived feelings for a wild tanned boy I’d met one summer at the beach who looked suspiciously similar to Simon. But those were fleeting and silly, usually the product of boredom. With Simon it was different. Every little movement, when he would practice with the Sword of Mages nonstop (on my side of the room!) to let out his anger after failing a test. Or dropping onto his bed and yelling for five minutes straight after stubbing a toe, just to piss me off; it made me love him more. It should have irritated me—after all, I was a Pitch - but I just found it to be oddly attractive. Simon was so fiery, he exploded with passion and anger at random times. There was an allure to the unpredictability, it drew me in. My life was full of predictability. Simon was the only thing I didn’t know how to control, only Simon could control Simon—and he couldn’t even do that half the time anyways.  
  
His golden hair and skin, his painfully average blue eyes. I knew every part of him—had mapped out his moles in his head, memorized his features so I could survive the long summers we spent apart. I wished I really _knew_ Simon; his favorite things besides butter and sour cherry scones, where the Mage sent him in the summers; I wanted to protect him, shield him from the Humdrum and the war and anything bad that could ever happen to him. I wanted to pick apart and dissect his brain. Figure out how his brain worked. I loved Simon, of course—how could I not- but I was naturally curious—how does Simon’s magic work? Why was it so difficult for him to do simple spellwork?  
  
But they were also the things that made Simon SIMON; the Simon that I had fallen for, despite us hating each other. We lived together, had classes together. We even showered in the same bathroom, Crowley. But we were far apart, separated by an insurmountable divide. And I knew that would never change. Simon hated me. And I didn’t blame him; after all, I was a vampire. A monster. I didn’t even love myself, how could I expect Simon to? Simon was like a flame—he kept drawing me in, burning me every time I got close. But I kept going back to him, baiting him—just to get him to look at me. I didn’t know any other way. Simon was the reason I got out of the bed in the mornings, the reason I could tolerate living as the monster I constantly told myself I was. Again and again, I told myself what I knew was true: _this would end in flames._ And I’d let it, because that was my plan to go out in the first place. Kiss Simon Snow and then let Simon Snow drive the Sword of Mages into my heart. What a way to die.


	2. chapter 2

SIMON  
I narrowed my eyes, staring into the back of Gareth's head. The lanky ginger stood beside Baz, his hands on his hips like he was ready to thrust his pelvis and perform a spell at any moment. He was smiling at Baz like he had no idea how evil Baz actually was. I wanted to run over to him and yell at him to stop talking to Baz. I continued to glare at the two of them until I was drawn back to reality and flinched, looking away as Penny waved a hand in my face.  
  
“Helloo? Simon. Is anyone in there?”  
  
“Yeah, sorry, just a little tired.” Penny puffed out her bottom lip in response and pushed a plate of sour cherry scones towards me.  
  
“We have a Latin quiz later today, remember? Eat up. You want to have energy for that.”  
  
I nodded, my attention falling away from Penny once more. Gareth had taken a seat next to Baz. I felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Penny seemed to notice my gaze, turning to look behind her.  
  
“Oh, not again, Simon. It’s early for this. I need to keep my brain clear for the quiz.”  
  
“But look at them!” I leaned in closer to Penny. “I’m sure they’re plotting something. What the hell would Baz want with Gareth?”  
  
“They’re on the same football team, for one.” Penny held up a hand with five fingers, flicking one down. “They have classes in common.” She dropped a second finger. “Baz has been gone for a while, Gareth is lonely,” Penny held up two more fingers. “Need I go on?” She wiggled the fingers of her left hand. “I have plenty more reasons.”  
  
“No, no. I get it.” I sighed and told myself to focus on Penny, yet my eyes continued to drift behind her to the two boys. I wasn’t sure what exactly it was, but something about Gareth hanging around with Baz was just plain wrong. It was unlike Baz. He had no reason to deal with the stupid hip-shaking redhead. There just had to be a plot of some sort. Baz was always plotting _something._  
  
I wiped the crumbs from my hands with a napkin and made my way to the trash, stopped in my tracks, hand hovering above the plastic bin. Across the room, Gareth pulled Baz into some sort of awkward, uncomfortable embrace. I stood, frozen for a moment more, than spun on my heels and tore back towards Penny.  
  
“Tell me you saw that!”  
  
“Saw what?”  
  
“Gareth just hugged Baz.”  
  
“No one hugs Baz, Simon, unless they have a death wish,” She said, incredulous.  
  
“Well I guess Gareth is ready to check out, then. Because he just swooped Baz into a bloody hug!”  
  
“You’re for real?”  
  
“Yes, I’m for real. He grabbed him like this,” I demonstrated on Penny.  
  
“Well, then, I suppose it's pretty clear what Gareth wants out of this.”  
  
“Really? What? Do you think they’re teaming up to plot?”  
  
“No, Crowley. It’s not all about plotting. Gareth thinks your little vampire boy is se-xy.” She rolled out the word, clasping her hands together and grinning.  
  
“Wh-what do you mean by that?”  
  
“Gods, Simon, it’s the twenty-first century. People can be gay. You know, the other day I read a study that said seventeen percent of teens identify-”  
  
I interrupted her. “But- Baz isn’t gay, Penny.”  
  
“Crowley, I never said he was. But how do you know, anyways? He’s never even had a girlfriend, Si. It’s not fair to assume everyone is straight.”  
  
“I know that, but...” I trailed off.  
  
“Even if he is, I don’t think Gareth has close to a shot. I mean, Baz practically ran out of the dining hall.” She nodded towards a hunched figure hurrying towards the dining hall doors.  
  
“That could be because he’s straight,” I interjected.  
  
“Or it could be that ridiculous belt buckle,” Penny cackled.  
  
“I mean, yeah, it is ridiculous, but Gareth could still be helping him plot too.”  
  
“Oh, shut it.” She shoved me gently. “We should get to class. Keep an eye on belt-boy and vampire prince for any plotting while I’m in first period.”  
  
“He is plotting, Penny, I’m serious—”  
  
“Jeez, Si. Relax. I was kidding.” She punched me in the arm. “He can only do so much plotting, anyways. Even vampire princes need to take breaks.”  
* * *  
I tried to suppress the memory of Ms. Possibelf’s dreaded class. I had slunk in, trying to keep a low profile. Even so, Baz turned around as soon as I’d entered the room, shooting me a terrible glare. “See, Penny,” I whispered to myself, making a mental note to tell her about it later. “Only vampires can hear that well.” Then Baz had glared at me again. He definitely heard me. It had only gone downhill from there. I’m pretty sure that Ms. Possibelf hates me. Lots of people suck, but I’m always the one who gets sent into the hall. Maybe that’s because other people usually mess up by not being able to do the spells, and my mistakes usually involve fire. Still, it's not fair. I’m sure she loves Baz, who breezes through her class like it's primary school.  
  
At least next class I don’t have to worry about mistakes or teachers. I love free periods. Penny would probably tell me to study for Latin. I know where the textbook is, in the bottom drawer of my bureau, but suddenly the prospect of getting up from my bed and grabbing it seems impossible. Penny says I’m a procrastinator. She’s probably right—no, she’s definitely right. But before I can make a decision one way or the other, the door comes swinging open and Baz struts into the room. He must be coming back before going to his next class; but i’m not sure what he’s doing. He always comes into a room like it’s the biggest deal in the world, like he belongs there and no one will ever question it. It's like the world is his stage, and he’s better than the rest of us. Bloody perfect git.  
  
Defensively, I leap up from my bed. He’s taller than me, but at least standing up I come closer to being his height. Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him and cross my arms. Now’s the time to try and figure out what the hell he wants with Gareth.  
  
Baz didn’t even seem to acknowledge my question. Like usual, he spat out a ‘none of your business,’ which is a step up from his usual response to me: nothing. I swear, he knows how much it ticks me off when people ignore me, so he does it on purpose.  
  
“HEY! Baz—” He slams the door shut, his exit just as dramatic as his entrance. “I just wanna know,” I flop down onto my bed. “I just wanna know what’s going on.” Gareth shouldn’t be touching Baz—he knows what an evil git he is! And if he doesn’t, I ought to warn him. The only person who should be touching Baz is me, and that’s only because I’m not too much of a wimp to fight him. Like the time I broke his nose. It’s still too high; I want to tug it down his face.  
  
The thought of breaking his nose made me smile, perhaps that wasn’t a good thing. But he deserved it, anyways. Everyone else worshipped him—the ruthless, strong, football player who was good at everything he did. They couldn’t see that he was plotting against Watford. And me. I was the only one brave enough to put that bloody vampire in his place. I’m still planning on getting the information about Gareth out of him—I need to know what they were doing. I just need to. He shouldn’t just be allowed to touch Baz. Like it’s nothing. Nobody touches Baz- he hates that.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my music recommendations for today are Jimi Lucid, Dystopia, and Elliot Smith. dystopia is metal so if you're not into that kind of thing don't check them out. but the rest are pretty light.
> 
> edit: nik agrees that elliot smith is amazing and adds that the velvet underground is also incredible :))


	3. chapter 3

BAZ  
Gareth came over and sat with us again. Sighing in exasperation, I scooted away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. Dev and Niall kept giving me weird looks and all I could do was glance at Gareth and sneer at him while he mindlessly chattered away about who-knows-what. Then, he _scooted closer to me. I couldn’t help but wonder; what the bloody fuck is this ginger moron doing._ He had the audacity to lean his leg against mine, which I almost didn’t move; maybe I could’ve pretended it was Simon. I moved it anyways, because it was Gareth and not Simon; I didn't want it to be anyone else.  
  
After a few more awkward attempts at getting close to me, Gareth seemed to take the hint somewhat and said, “Well, mates, I’ve got homework to do. See you tomorrow, Baz!” I cringed as he said this, biting my tongue, barely resisting the urge to plead with him: _No, please don’t see me tomorrow._ Instead, I scowled and didn't respond. As soon as he was gone, Dev and Niall proceeded to interrogate me.  
  
“What the bloody fuck was _that,_ ” Dev spat out. He knew I was queer, and so did Niall, but I didn’t blame them for being confused.  
  
“I don’t fucking know,” I despaired. “He won’t leave me alone. He doesn’t even know that I’m gay.”  
  
“Gareth? Really?” Niall said. “I thought he was straight.”  
  
“Apparently not,” I grimaced.  
  
“Can’t he take a hint?” Dev asked me. “It’s pretty obvious you’re not into him.”  
  
“He’s a bloody moron. Possibly even worse than Snow.” They nodded in agreement and I got up, walking over to the trashcan while Simon gaped at me from across the cafeteria. Crowley, he’d never leave me alone now. Waving a quiet farewell to Dev and Niall, I slowly walked back to our shared dorm, trying to delay the inevitable confrontation. Snow was going to lose his shit. I wasn’t even sure why. He was on some tangent about Gareth now. I wasn’t a fan of the redhead myself, but I don’t know what Simon’s problem is. It wasn’t like he was a man of logic, anyhow. Sure enough, about 10 minutes after I sat down at my desk to study, he blew in. His magic was raging. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was jealous. I almost laughed at the thought, but continued to ignore him as he glared at me, just standing there.  
  
“What the fuck, Baz,” Snow growled.  
  
“What?” I asked him. “Is this about Gareth again?? I have the right to talk to other people, you know.”  
  
“I know,” he said, pulling at his curls. “But you’re plotting, aren’t you??”  
  
This time, I didn’t suppress my laughter. He continued to glare at me, and from the electric buzzing in the air, I could feel the intensity of his magic worsening.  
  
“Not everything is about _plotting,_ ” I sneered. _Of course he thinks we’re plotting,_ I thought to myself. Simon Snow only thinks about two things; plotting and sour cherry scones. I almost told him so until suddenly he snarled and shouted, “Look at me, Baz.” I slowly turned around to stare at him.  
  
“This desperate for attention, Snow?” I leered at him, egging him on.  
  
“Shut up,” he said. “Tell me what’s really happening with _Gareth._ ” He spat the name out like it tasted like bile in his mouth.  
  
“Nothing, Snow, and you’re a moron to think I’d plot with _Gareth_ of all people.”  
  
I stood up for a moment it seemed like he was going to grab my shoulders, but he stopped himself. I raised an eyebrow, keeping up my nonchalant demeanor.  
  
“I know you’re plotting!” he shouted at me. “You can’t fool me!” I laughed at him again. A look of rage spread across his face and he lunged at me, pinning me against the door.  
  
“What the ACTUAL fuck, Snow,” I scowled at him, thoroughly pissed off.  
  
“ **Tell me** ,” he shouted again, unknowingly pushing magic into his words.  
  
“Gareth somehow realized I’m gay and is trying to flirt with me, even though I’m not interested in him, I’m interested in—” I slapped my hand over my mouth. _Fuck._  
  
“You’re gay?” he said incredulously, letting go of me and stepping back. He didn’t even question the part where I almost said I was interested in _him._  
  
“Crowley,” I sighed, slipped past him and stood by my desk. No point in lying to him now— it was a truth spell. “I am,” I told him.  
  
“But— Agatha—,” He said, confused.  
  
“I’m not interested in her either. I was only trying to get under your skin,” I confessed. _No more confessions tonight, Basilton,_ I told myself. _Pitches don’t confess these things to their worst enemies._  
  
“What the _fuck,_ ” he nearly shouted. “Fuck you, Baz.” _Sure, go ahead,_ I thought to myself. Shitty joke, Baz. I didn’t respond to him but stalked away into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I still needed to feed, but I’d do that once Simon fell asleep.  
  
“Wait,” Simon said from the other side of the door. “You really don’t like Gareth?”  
  
“Of course not,” I told him. “He’s not my type. I’d really rather he leave me alone.”  
  
“Oh,” he said dully and then he was quiet. I turn on the shower, hoping to drown out Simon’s muttering as he tries and fails to understand Politickal Science. I spend a long enough time in there that by the time I’m out, Simon is finishing studying and apparently going to bed early. I slipped out of the room and headed to the Catacombs. Simon didn’t even bother to ask where I was going like he usually did.  
  
By the time I returned, he was long asleep. I stopped once I opened the door and just watched him for a solid 30 seconds. It’s creepy, yeah, but it’s one of the only times he’d looked at peace. I slowly got dressed for bed, and resisted the urge to tell him I loved him when he couldn’t hear me. The moonlight that shined in from the (open— I’d yell at him to close it tomorrow) window highlighted the freckles and moles on his face as he snored softly. The sound of his breathing lulled me to sleep, after I spent a good long time staring at him, memorizing his features once again. It’d been so long since I'd seen him. I missed him so much while I had been kidnapped; the vision of his face and his laugh had been one of the only things that’d kept me going. I’m so weak for him.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today i recommend korn
> 
> and nik recommends kimya dawson c:


	4. chapter 4

SIMON  
When I finally rolled out of bed, Baz was nowhere to be seen. Probably off hunting for blood. Or with Gareth. The thought of that made me frown. I wasn’t sure which of those two situations was actually even _worse_. Baz said he wasn’t interested in Gareth, but I didn’t know if I believed him. Maybe he was just trying to get me to stop thinking he was plotting so he could plot freely. A small breeze blew through the open window.  
  
“He left it open?” I said, to no one in particular. That was definitely un-Baz like. Sun dappled the room, a beam of light landing on Baz’s bed, which was unmade.  
  
Where was he?  
  
“I shouldn’t even care.” I yanked on a pair of creased school trousers and a wrinkled tank top. Penny would have something to say about my ‘personal hygiene’. But Penny had something to say about a lot of things. She had been right, actually. About Baz. Baz being…  
  
It just didn’t seem right. The pale-skinned boy was all sorts of mysterious. But not that kind of mysterious. Hiding dead bodies mysterious. Or sneaking out at night mysterious. Flirting with people’s girlfriends mysterious! He could get any girl he wanted, of course he went for Agatha.That had just been an elaborate lie, then. But Baz did seem to be lying through his teeth most of the time. So why do I almost feel betrayed? It’s not like he tells me things, I’m usually too busy punching the shit out of him for that. Or we’re too busy not talking at all. I guess it’s no wonder I don’t know. Because I guess I don’t really know Baz.  
  
I’ve spent so much time following him around, waiting to catch him doing something wrong. But I didn’t even notice that he’s into blokes? What kind of crap detective am I? Maybe he was lying about being gay too, just to throw me off even further? I don’t think he would, there was no benefit to lying about that. And even I felt the magic lacing my words. He had to be telling the truth, not even Baz could resist a truth-speaking spell. Nobody could.  
  
I tried, futily, to drag a comb through my hair. It got stuck in a thick curl and I ended up having to yank out some hair. “Merlin!” It's the kind of moment I can just tell never happened to Baz. I’m sure he’d never stumble over a curb, or drops a glass, or gets a stupid brush stuck in his perfect stupid hair. Why does he get to be so perfect, while the rest of us look like proper idiots next to him?  
  
I felt a sudden urge to do something, anything, to mess with that unfair perfection. But there’s not a whole lot you can even do to mess with Baz. I looked from my side of the room to his. Dirty slacks, single socks, and crumpled balls of paper litter my side. Nothing litters his side of the room.  
  
I picked up a wrinkled abandoned Latin practice sheet first. Just a light toss towards his side of the room. Then a broken pencil. An empty crisps bag. Next thing I knew, his pillow was on the floor and his blankets torn back from the mattress.  
  
He’s going to kill me.  
  
Somehow, it didn’t scare me. For once.  
  
I stood up, backing towards the door, eyes widened.  
  
He’s going to kill me! Yet, somehow it wasn’t a depressing thought. Maybe he’d push me against the wall this time- what the fuck, Simon. It’s just the adrenaline of fighting you like, I tell myself. A small grin danced across my face before I grabbed my knapsack and left the room. It definitely wasn’t a good idea to be here when Baz returned.  
  
A wild sort of energy buzzed inside me as I walked down the spiral staircase and towards the dining hall. Every step felt otherworldly and distant, as if I was floating somewhere above my own body and watching myself. I was still riding that wave of strange electricity when I noticed a familiar figure ahead of me.  
  
Gareth. Prancing along. I could practically smell his gaudy belt buckle from here. “Hey! Hey, you!” I waited impatiently for him to realize I was talking to him, I raised my voice and drew a few looks and whispers from other students. “Gareth!” He finally looked over to me, a dumb look of confusion spread over his face.  
  
“Huh? Me?”  
  
“Yeah, Sherlock. There aren’t many Gareths around here, are there?” He opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid about how there could be other Gareths, so I grabbed his collar and shoved him down a small side corridor.  
  
“Hey, man, ow! What do you want, dude? It’s not cool to bloody push people.” He shook free from my grasp and brushed off his shoulders.  
  
“What are you doing with him?”  
  
“With who?”  
  
“You know who I’m talking about.”  
  
“I’m not sure you have the right Gareth, lad.”  
  
“There’s only one Gareth, Gareth! God! I’m talking about Baz. What are you doing with Baz?”  
  
“Pitch? What does that matter to you?”  
  
“It doesn’t matter what it matters to me!”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
I sighed, exasperated. I’d heard before that Gareth wasn’t exactly bright, but this was getting annoying. “Look, is he trying to do anything…against the rules with you?”  
  
Gareth narrowed his eyes. “Homosexuality is legal, Sim—”  
  
“I’m not talking about being gay, Gareth!” I interrupted him.  
  
He returned the favor, interjecting before I could finish. “Ohhhhh,” Gareth patted my shoulder. “I didn’t know you and him were...” He made a crude hand gesture. “You know, I wondered why he hadn’t been taking my signals. I’ll leave your man to you.”  
  
I felt my body tense and my breath quicken. Planting a hand on his shoulder, I sent him crashing towards the wall. “He’s not my man, I’m not bloody gay.” Gareth stumbled and landed on his knees, shuffling away from me frantically.  
  
“I didn’t mean, uh, I just thought. No, I’m sorry, Simon!” He slid on his butt, scooting away from me.  
  
“Stay away from Baz.” I growled as he rounded the corner, unsure if he could even hear me. The buzzing in my ears grew louder, a static roar filling my head. Looking down, I saw that my hands were shaking.  
What _was_ this?  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aphex twin is so good
> 
> so is double grave, literally a v underrated band


	5. Chapter 5

BAZ  
I opened the door to our room to see chaos. Simon’s litter was tossed around my room and the pillow and blanket from my bed are lying on the floor in a heap. Simon, of course, was nowhere to be seen. He never stayed around to clean up his messes. Now the metaphor was literal, I supposed.  
  
“What the fuck, Snow,” I said to myself angrily. “Did you go off in here or something?” The drawers of my desk are pulled out, and only half of the things that were in there originally remain. Luckily there was nothing I didn’t want him to see in there. My clothes are scattered on the floor, the drawers in the dresser hanging open too. One is about to fall out of the bureau, hanging precariously. His side of the room is spotless, of course. He had to go and ruin my stuff. I sigh in dismay as I notice the crisps missing from the bottom drawer of my dresser. I heard a soft noise coming from the bathroom. It almost sounds like someone’s crying. Was Simon in here and had somehow escaped my notice?  
  
I opened the door, my suspicion confirmed. Simon was sitting in the bathtub, his head in his hands and tears flowing freely from his eyes. I just stared, caught off guard, for once not really sure what to do. He finally noticed my presence and flushed red from embarrassment. His magic was fuming, the entire room smelled of smoke. “Snow-” I start to say and he cuts me off with “Shut up!”, pressing his palms into his eyes. I close the door and leave. He clearly needed to be alone right now, I could at least respect that. Part of me was just thankful to avoid the situation, it seemed messy. And it wasn’t easy to see Simon cry. It wasn’t natural. I strode into the hallway, agitated, a small part of me guilty for leaving him. _Yeah, right. It’s not like he even wants you there._ Yet, just as I had this thought, behind me I heard a soft thud and the creaking of our old cedar dorm room door.  
  
“Baz, wait,” I heard Snow’s raw voice emerge from behind me. His eyes are red and puffy. _be nice, Baz,_ I tell myself.  
  
“I need your advice,” he said. I raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t what I expected. “Yeah, I know it’s weird, but Baz, please.” His tone is helpless.  
  
“What’s your problem?” I sigh.  
  
“Thanks Baz, I really appreciate it,” he said, clearly relieved, and gestured for me to come back into the room. I sighed and followed him back into the pigsty that he had created.  
  
He looked towards me, sincerely, and I half expected him to say something profound. Instead, he just kept staring with those dopey eyes and asked a typical moron-Snow question.. “Baz, you’re gay right?”  
  
I’m almost tempted to snip at him: _No, Snow, I’m not gay. It was all a lie to mess with your head and now I’m going to go off and marry Agatha._ But I stop myself and say, “Yes, Snow. We’ve been over this.”  
  
“How did you know you were gay?” he asked me. _I don’t know, Snow, I just woke up one day with a lust for men and blood,_ I think to myself.  
  
I don’t really know what to say. I saw a picture of a hot guy and said _maybe I’m gay_? I paused before I crossed my arms and answered unnaturally honestly. “I don’t know. I always thought girls were pretty, but I never wanted to date one and I was never really attracted to one. Like, I thought I was, but I don’t even know if that was real. Then I met this guy—” Simon’s face flushed red.  
“It was in primary school,” I told him. “You don’t have a problem with my sexuality, right?” I asked him coldly.  
  
“Uh, no, of course not.” He spits it out, not even meeting my eyes.  
  
I raise an eyebrow. “Anyways, like I was saying, I met this kid in primary school. He was my first crush.”  
  
I decide to switch it around and ask him, “How do you know you’re straight?”  
  
“I don’t,” he said miserably. I widened my eyes. _The chosen one might be gay?_  
  
For a second, it’s like time has stopped. Hasn’t this been exactly what I’ve been waiting for. Year after painstaking year, I told myself that I hadn’t a chance in hell with Simon. That he was out of reach, impossibly mine. But… what if he wasn’t straight? There’s no way this was possible. He was supposed to go off and marry Agatha, have a ton of kids and live happily ever after _Even if he was gay, he hates me. This doesn’t really change anything. I can’t let this mean something to me._  
But it does.  
”Oh. Okay,” I said slowly, trying not to sound like I had an issue with it. Surely he knew I wouldn’t, right? Coming out was stressful for anyone. Even for the chosen one. “What makes you think that?”  
  
“I dunno,” he said, averting his eyes from mine. “There was just this guy who was flirting with some other guy and it made me really mad. I really shouldn’t be mad or whatever. I shouldn’t care. But I think I might be… jealous? It doesn’t make sense. It’s not _me_ , but I can’t ignore it.” I try to ignore the pang in my heart to think that Simon’s gay— but doesn’t want me. Well, actually; I don’t know what world any rational person would live in where they were in love with someone who treated them like dog shit.  
  
Still, just for a moment, I had let myself wonder. Imagine what could have been.  
  
“Okay, that does sound like jealousy,” I said and shrugged, trying to seem like I didn’t care. “Maybe you have a crush on whoever this bloke is.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess I might,” he sighs. I sneaked a glance at my watch and saw that I had football practice in 9 minutes.  
  
“Shit, Snow, I have to go to practice.” He nods and waves his hand towards the door, gesturing for me to leave. It doesn’t feel right to leave him like this, but I go anyways. I’m not going to make it weirder than it already is.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm recommending MOSS! today which is a punk band i just found and i love
> 
> and i'm recommending jeffrey lewis! especially the song seattle, it's probably his best song

**Author's Note:**

> you guys should check out rainbow rowell's baz playlist. i've been listening to it for a couple years and it's a pretty good playlist. here's the link if anyone's interested : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3wVraH7Sf7zh554cpPQKpj?si=xnMuU3xpTeisyzEEQYoQvg  
> depeche mode. great taste.  
> if anyone wants recommendations from me, you'll get them. if you don't, idc.


End file.
